A Study in Pink
by WeasleysGroupie
Summary: Serial suicides? Detective Inspector Lestrade is left with no choice but to call in his best, and technically illegal, consulting detective; Niklaus Mikaelson. Dr. Stefan Salvatore, his new flatmate, and Dr. Caroline Forbes, who he met in the mortuary, tag alone for the ride. And what a bumpy one it will be. The first book in the Klefaroline!Sherlock series.
1. one

**a study in pink**

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**a TVD/Sherlock fanfiction by WeasleysGroupie**

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**starring Klefaroline**

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**disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or the TVD characters. The title is not mine.  
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The memories of war never truly leave a man. Especially not certain men. Especially not _this_ man. The soldier tossed and turned in his makeshift bed. The worn down walls surrounding him couldn't hold down the assault of memories bombarding his mind. A disease in the night. _Dead_. So many dead.

"Stefan." They called out to him.

"Get back!" Sargent Lockwood's yell echoes like in a horror film. The ghost calling, calling him. Haunting him. Memories.

He bolts upright in bed and tries to catch his breath, not sure where he lost it. He slumps back down and let's out a wince. But he will not cry. He's a soldier.

* * *

The sun has come up. Quickly, but not quick enough. He stares at it for a while, contemplating. Then he sits up. He has a new thing to stare at now. A new plague.

* * *

He hobbles over to his desk, clutching his walking stick. He places an apple and his fresh mug of tea in front if him. He opens up the first drawer on the right hand side of his old, wooden desk. He pulls out his laptop and barely glances at the gun underneath. He opens it and stares. It's still there. Still on the same page. Just as he left it. He joins his hands together and purses his lips.

_The personal blog of  
Dr. Stefan Salvatore._

* * *

"How's your blog going?"

"Yeah, good. Uh, very good." he clears his throat and plays with his fingers.

"You haven't written a word, have you?" her hands, that not two seconds ago lay comfortably on her lap, scribble in her little notebook and her posture is as straight as a ruler. He leans with the chair, a habit he can't quite ditch.

"You just wrote 'still has trust issues'."

"And you read my writing upside down," she gives him an all therapist look "You see what I mean?" He merely gives her a small smile.

"Stefan, you're a soldier," like he doesn't know "You lost everything and it's going to take you a while to adjust to civilian life, writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you." He almost laughs, but instead shakes his head.

"Nothing ever happens to me."

* * *

October 12th

"What do you mean, there's no ruddy car?" The blonde paces her office, fumbles with the collar of her purple blouse and sighs.

"You went to Waterloo. I'm sorry- Get a cab."

"I never get cabs, woman!" The blonde smiles and moves further away from her coworker's prying ears.

"I love you."

"When?" The man in the suit smirks while roaming towards the airport doors. The blonde laughs.

"Get a cab!" They both end the call, neither knowing that will be the last conversation they ever have.

* * *

The man in the suit no longer smirks. He is scared as his fingers fumble to open the bottle. He takes out the pill with a shaking hand and places it in his mouth.

* * *

Not too long after he is writhing on the floor. Dying.

* * *

"My husband was a happy man who lived life to the fullest." The brunette's fingers shake as she reads while the reports click their cameras and scribble in their notebooks. "He loved his family and his work, and that he should have taken his own life in this way is a mystery and a shock to all who knew him, he was- he was a great man."

Behind all the press with their cameras a blonde in a purple blouse cries.

* * *

November 26th

It's raining. The two friends run. They're going to be late to the new 'Thor' movie. One is holding on tight to a yellow umbrella, the other is cursing himself for not bringing one.

"Taxi!" He whistles. The Taxi passes him out and he groans.

"I'll be back in two minutes, mate."

"What?" The one with the umbrella frowns.

"I'm just going home to get my umbrella." He explains.

"You can share mine." The friend calls after him. But his friend was always too proud to accept help.

"Two minutes, all right?" Too proud for his own good.

* * *

He's taking long. Too long. The friend with the umbrella checks his watch again. He decides to go after him. What is taking him so damn long?

* * *

His face is wet from all the rain and his tears. He cries as he opens the tiny bottle.

**Boy, 18, kills himself inside sports centre** - the headline reads.

* * *

January 27th

An angry brunette stomps up to the bar. Her friend sits under the 'Happy Birthday' banner, glass in hand.

"She's still dancing?" He asks.

"Yeah, if you can call it that." She sighs and grabs her glass off the counter.

"Did you get the car keys off her?"

"Got them out of her bag." She waves the set of keys in her hand. Her friend nods then looks back at the direction of the dance floor.

"Where has she gotten to, now?"

* * *

Outside a blonde MP is searching her bag for keys. She sighs and gives up.

* * *

Not a few moments later she is crying. In an abandoned building site with nothing but a bottle of pills.

* * *

"The body of Jules Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London." The cameras flash as Sergeant Bennett continues. "Preliminary investigations suggest that it was suicide. We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir John Patterson and Logan Phillimore. These incidences are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now."

The room is buzzing with activity immediately.

"Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?" A reporter inquires.

"Well, they all took the same poison. Um, they were all found in places they had no reason to be. None of them had shown any prior indication of-"

"But you can't have serial suicides." The reporter interrupts.

"Well, apparently you can." Detective Inspector Lestrade rolls his eyes.

"These three people, there's nothing that links them?" A different reporter asks.

"There's no links we've found yet," he licks his lips "but were looking for it - there has to be one."

Mobiles beep throughout the room.

_Wrong!_

"If you've all got texts, please ignore them." Sergeant Bennett gives a tight lipped smile.

"It just says 'wrong'." The first journalist speaks up.

"Yeah, well, just ignore that." Bennett sighs in frustration. "If there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end."

"If they're suicides, what are you investigating?" Reporter number two pipes up.

"As I say, these suicides are clearly linked." Lestrade answers. "Um, it's an...unusual situation. But what's the fun in being ordinary? We've got our best people investigating."

A flurry of mobiles beep again.

_Wrong!_

"Says 'wrong' again." Reporter number one states.

"One more question." Bennett announces, eager to end.

"Is there any chance that these are murders?" A redheaded journalist clicks her recorder on. "And if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?"

"I know that you like writing about drama, but, as I've already pointed out, these do appear to be suicides." Lestrade answers. "We know the difference. The poison was clearly self-administered."

"Yes, but if they are murders, how do people keep themselves safe?" She fixes her glasses.

"Don't commit suicide." Lestrade shrugs.

"Daily Mail" Bennett whisper-scolds.

"Obviously, this is a frightening time for people," Lestrade sits up straighter. "But all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. Stay out of the knife drawer, if you're so worried. We are all as safe as we want to be."

Mobiles beep throughout the room once more.

_Wrong!_

Detective Inspector Lestrade's phone beeps a second later than everyone else's.

_You know where to find me.  
NM_

He rolls his eyes.

"Thank you." He addresses the room. With a nod he stands to leave.

* * *

"You've got to stop him doing that." Bennett complains as they walk down the hall. "He's making us look like idiots."

"If you can tell me _how_ he does it, BonBon, I'll stop him." Lestrade swaggers into his office leaving a pissed off brunette.

* * *

The soldier limps down the path with his walking stick. He passes the pigeons in the park. The sun is shining and the oak trees are stretching to great heights. A stress free environment. He wobbles past a man on a bench. He pays him no mind until he hears his name fall from the man's lips.

"Stefan." He calls. "Stefan Salvatore!" The soldier turns.

"Matt. Matt Donovan. We were at Barts together."

"Yes, yes, I know. Matt." Stefan nods and shakes his hand.

"How have you been?" Matt has his usual friendly smile.

"Oh, yeah, great." Not at all paranoid and sleep deprived.

"I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. What happened?" Matt tilts his head. Stefan eyes him from underneath his eyelashes.

"I got shot." He tells him with a small smirk.

"I try to avoid that." Matt winks. "Coffee?"

* * *

They sip coffee on the same bench, curtesy of Matt.

"Are you still at Barts, than?" Stefan breaks the silence.

"Teaching now, yeah." Matt nods. "Smart, young things like we used to be. Fast, agile youths. God, I hate them. We weren't that bad were we?" Matt chuckles and Stefan fiddles with his walking stick.

"Oh, Matt." He tilts his head. "We were far worse." They share a brief laugh.

"What about you?" Matt asks. "Just staying in town 'til you get yourself sorted?"

"I couldn't afford London on an army pension." Stefan puffs out his cheeks.

"And you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the Stefan Salvatore I know." Matt sips his drink.

"Yeah, I'm _not_ the Stefan Salvatore.." He snaps but trails off. He cracks his knuckles to calm himself down.

"Couldn't Lexi help?" Matt offers.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen." Stefan snorts.

"Well, I'm sure the pigeons would welcome a handsome, young lad like yourself." Matt gazes around at the grey birds.

"I'd probably end up eating them." Stefan snorts.

"I don't know, get a flat share or something?" Matt shrugs.

"Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?" Stefan shakes his head in disbelief. Matt laughs and looks up at him.

"What?" Stefan asks.

"You're the second person to say that to me today." Matt smiles.

"Who's the first?" Stefan asks.

* * *

The man in the black coat zips open the body bag and sniffs.

"How fresh?"

"Just in. Sixty-seven, natural causes." She answers and moves around the table. To be closer to him. Always him. "Used to work here. I knew him, he was a jackass."

"Shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love." He zips up the body bag. The sassy blonde snorts.

"We'll start with the riding crop." He smirks at her.

* * *

She flinches every time he whips the corpse. His movements increasing and getting more rapid with each swing.

"So, bad day, huh?" She attempts to joke.

"I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes." He doesn't even hear her little giggle or see her smile, the one she only has for him. "A man's alibi depends on it. Text me."

"Do you want to know his pants size too?" She snorts and he raises an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?" He doesn't look up from his notebook.

"Oh no, that was- never mind. Uh, can I ask you a question?" She scratches the back of her head.

"Yes, I was the one who took the fern by the foyer but it was for a good cause."

"Okay...that's not-" she shakes her head and clears her throat. "I was wondering. Maybe later, if you wanted to, when you're finished..." He looks up from writing in his notebook and furrows his eyebrows.

"You're wearing lipstick." He states. He observes, that's what he does. He just observes the wrong things. "You weren't wearing lipstick before."

"I, er... I refreshed it a bit." Her cheeks grow pink but she still smiles. That one special smile. He shrugs.

"Sorry, love. You were saying?" He goes back to writing and she plucks up all her courage.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee...maybe." He nods and she loses her breath.

"Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs." He heads out the door. Leaving her with a corpse.

"Seriously?!" The blonde whispers, kicks the table and groans.

* * *

The man in the black coat works away in the lab, the one he's not supposed to be in.

Matt knocks on the door and let's himself in. Stefan follows and looks around the room. Sharp objects and chemicals, this can only go well.

"It's, uh, a bit different from my day." He rests on his walking stick.

"You've no idea!" Matt chuckles. "You can read books on a box now. You don't even have to go to a store to buy them!"

"You do a lot more than just read books on that thing, don't you Matt?" The man in the black coat smirks. Matt flushes. "Mate, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." He types away on the computer. Stefan can't help but wonder about this mysterious man.

"Too hip for the landline?" Matt raises an eyebrow.

"I prefer to text." He tilts his head but continues working. "And nobody says 'hip' anymore, mate."

"Sorry, I left it in my coat." Matt shrugs and plays with a syringe. It spurts out an unknown liquid and he puts it down and backs away.

"Uh, you can use mine." Stefan fishes his old LG out of his pocket.

"Oh," the man adjusts his black coat and eyes the newcomer. "Thank you." He stands up and walks towards him.

"This is an old friend of mine," Matt points to the soldier. "Stefan Salvatore." The man in the black coat nods and takes the phone, Stefan offers him a small smile.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" He asks casually while his thumbs move rapidly on the keyboard. Matt smirks knowingly at Stefan's bewildered expression.

"Sorry?"

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" The man snaps the phone shut.

"Afghanistan...how the hell-"

"Ah, Caroline, coffee, thank you." Stefan sucks in a breath as the mystery man hands him back his mobile and turns to talk to 'Caroline'.

"What happened to the lipstick?" He asks.

"It wasn't working for me." She gives him a tight lipped smile and hands him a black mug. Stefan looks to the side and sees the blonde.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement." The man walks back to the computer. "Your mouth's too...small now." The man sips the coffee and grimaces. He sets the mug down and types again. Stefan concludes that he doesn't know how to talk to woman. Or he's just ignorant.

"Noted." The blonde nods and bites her lip.

"Your mouth's lovely." Stefan whispers and sends her a reassuring smile and she sends him back a grateful one.

"How do you feel about the violin?" The man inquires and Stefan furrows his eyebrows. Caroline beams at him.

"Good luck." She whispers as she leaves the room. He thinks it might need it.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asks.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking," the man clicks away on the computer. "And sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?" The man adjusts his black coat again and looks at Stefan.

"After all, we are potential flatmates, we should know the worst about each other." The man sends him a mischievous look.

"You told him about me? When did you..tell him about me?" Stefan asks Matt.

"I didn't say a word." Matt smirks again.

"Then who said anything about flatmates?" Stefan narrows his eyes at the man.

"I did, mate." He says nonchalantly. "I told Matt this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan." He raises his eyebrows. "Wasn't difficult to put together." Stefan nods.

"And how, exactly, did you know about Afghanistan?"

"Got my eye on a quaint, little place in Central London. Just far enough away from the police station." He ignores Stefan. "Together we ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening. Say, seven-ish?" He smiles and pats Stefan on the back. "Sorry, must be off. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." He heads for the door, leaving the wheels turning in the soldier's head.

"Is that..it?" Stefan asks.

"Is what it?" The man rests his hand on the handle of the door.

"We've only just met and we're going to go look at a flat?" Stefan shakes his head. Matt's still smirking. He knows his two old friends together will be nothing if not interesting.

"Problem?" The man asks simply. He looks at Matt, then back to Stefan.

"We don't know a thing about each other. I don't- I don't know where we're meeting. You could be some sort of serial killer or rapist. Plus, you evidently hang out in the mortuary. Matt's a kind soul but I'm a lot harder to win over." The man smirks at Stefan's stubbornness. "I don't even know your name." Stefan stares at the man. He smiles and leans against the counter top.

"Do you want me to tell you what I know, Stefan Salvatore?" He sounds like he's mocking him but Stefan nods anyway.

"I know you're an army doctor and you've been an invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother worried about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly, I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think, mate?" He smirks and dramatically shrugs. He walks backwards to the door and pulls it open. He turns back to smirk at Matt then looks to Stefan.

"The name's Niklaus Mikaelson, you can call me Klaus, and the address is 221B Baker Street." He has the cockiness to wink.

"Afternoon." Definitely just ignorant. He looks to Matt, who nods and answers the unasked question.

"Yeah, he's always like that." Matt smiles. Stefan clicks his tongue. "Rethinking the pigeons?"

* * *

Later, Stefan returns to his cave. He sighs and looks around. He sits on the creaky, makeshift bed for the last time, walking stick in hand. He takes his phone out of his pocket and purses his lips. Curiosity killed the cat, but _hey_ he was going to live with the guy. His thumbs work away.

Messages - Sent.

_If brother has green ladder arrest brother.  
NM_

Stefan just stares at the message. He lets himself brood for a moment. Then, he looks to his desk. He sighs, and hobbles over. Opening his laptop, he googles Niklaus Mikaelson and tells himself that it's only fair.

* * *

She wears pink, it was always her favourite colour. Her nail varnish is the same shade as her coat. Like the others, her fingers wobble as she picks up the vile with the little pills. She wishes they were pink.

* * *

In Baker Street, a taxi pulls up outside 221B. A soldier knocks on the door, walking stick in hand while the man in the black coat steps out of the taxi, or, cab.

"Hello." He calls and Stefan turns to find him paying the cabbie.

"Ah, Mr. Mikaelson." He greets while taking in the view. It was a great neighbourhood. Not too far away from the square and, what looked like, friendly neighbours. There was flowers on most windowsills and the pavements were practically spotless. Stefan never thought he'd even be looking in a place as good as this.

"I told you, you can call me Klaus, mate." They shake hands and Stefan smiles and nods.

"Well, this is ah..it's...great. Must be expensive." Stefan purses his lips and Klaus smirks.

"Gloria, the landlady, has given me a special offer. Owes me a favour, you see, a few years back, her husband got himself into a spot of bother. Yeah, he got sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." Klaus sways on the balls of his feet as he waits for the door to open.

"_You_ stopped her husband from being executed?" Stefan gives him a disbelieving look.

"Oh, no," Klaus chuckles. "I ensured it." Stefan opens his mouth but doesn't get a chance to speak.

"Hey guys!" The blonde smiles as she approaches the two men, hands in the pockets of her long, blue trench coat. She wears a grey scarf and make-up today. Stefan notes how her eyes are sparkling and smirks to himself.

"Caroline?" Klaus blinks.

"Hey Klaus." She beams. "Cold isn't it?"

"What are you doing here?" Klaus inspects her, curiosity burning in his eyes.

"Stefan invited me." Caroline sways awkwardly laughing. Stefan sees the same look in her eyes as before.

"What's apartment hunting without a pretty woman, hm?" He comes to the rescue of Klaus' bluntness. He has a feeling he'll be doing that a lot. Caroline blushes and smiles shyly at Stefan. Klaus looks like he wants to say something but the door flings open.

"Niklaus!" A woman in her late 50's opens the door. She wears a purple dress that shows what's left of her figure and sports a friendly smile.

"Gloria, this is Dr. Stefan Salvatore." Klaus gestures to the soldier. "and Dr. Caroline Forbes." He nods to the blonde.

"Hi." Stefan nods and shakes her hand.

"Hey." Caroline smiles and takes her right hand out of her pocket to shake too.

"Hello, hello! A lot if doctors you got there!" Gloria chuckles. "And such pretty ones too." She winks. "Come on in, dearies!" She opens the door wider.

"Thank you." Stefan follows her in. Klaus gestures for Caroline to go first and she smiles at him.

"You took my advice on the lipstick." He states.

"Problem?" The sassy blonde asks but doesn't wait for an answer. He watches her strut away.

"Not at all." He says to himself then enters the apartment. The door of 221B closes. _This_ is where the story truly begins.

* * *

**a/n -** why hello there, I want to continue this but idk. I'll see what the response is, I guess. I got the Sherlock box set because my friends were talking about it and I love it so much! Johnlock reminded me of Klefan for some reason and I really like the Steroline friendship and, of course, Klaroline. So, yeah, they're working together to get the job done ;)  
I will update on Sunday, if people want me to, but the week after that is my Christmas exams so I won't be uploading anything then. But then I have the Christmas holidays so writing time :))


	2. two

Caroline offers to help Stefan but he declines and hobbles up the winding stairs to the apartment. Once in the room, they inspect every detail of the clutter. Green wallpaper spread on the wall with both windows. Brown designed wallpaper takes up the others. Boxes of knickknacks lay in unorganised piles. Dozens of books scattered here and there. A brown couch lay against the right wall and on the other side of the room, beside the fireplace, sat two armchairs. There was a desk that was covered in boxes too and if there was any other furniture it was hidden by the mess. It opens up to a quaint, little kitchen that is home to a mini forensic lab.

"Well, this could be very nice." Stefan nods his head. "Could be great."

"Yes, my thoughts precisely." Klaus smiles. He takes off his coat then moves to stand by the window. Caroline crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the doorframe.

"Once you get-"

"So I went straight ahead-"

"-rid of all the crap."

"-and moved right in." Klaus frowns at Caroline.

"Oh." She smiles sheepishly.

"Well, I guess I could straighten up a bit." He mumbles and picks up a book. He tosses it into a box and sways on his feet.

"I'll pick up my stuff later then." Stefan clicks his tongue. He plops down on the armchair nearest the kitchen. He shuffles to get comfortable, adjusting a pillow with an American flag pattern and then takes in his surroundings again.

"That's a skull." He nods towards one of the objects on top of the fireplace.

"Brilliant deduction, doctor." Caroline teases. Stefan sticks his tongue out at her.

"Friend of mine," Klaus explains. "Well, I like to think we ended on good terms." He messes with some boxes, trying to make the place cleaner. Stefan and Caroline share a look.

"Right." Stefan purses his lips and nods.

"What do you think then, doctor?" Gloria appears and grins at Stefan. Caroline snorts.

"Oh, uh, great." Stefan nods.

"Brilliant! There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing it." Gloria smiles.

"Of course we will.." Stefan raises his eyebrows.

"Oh, don't worry there's all sorts around here." Gloria waves her hand dismissively.

"Mrs Turner next door has married ones." She claps her hands enthusiastically and Stefan furrows his eyebrows. Klaus seems unaware of what she was assimilating.

"Noisy are they?" Caroline chortles. Stefan throws the American flag pillow at her. Gloria doesn't hear her and heads towards the kitchen.

"Look at the mess you've made, Niklaus!" She announces while shaking her head.

"Men!" Caroline grins then heads towards the kitchen. "I'll help you, Gloria."

"I, ah, looked you up last night." Stefan leans forward in his chair. Klaus drops the book and leans against the desk.

"The magic of the internet." He nods. "Anything interesting?"

"Well, I found your website." Stefan looks at him under his eyelashes. "_the science of deduction_."

"Ah, yes." Klaus smiles proudly. "What did you think?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Pompous." Stefan claps his hands together.

"Is that so?" Klaus smirks.

"You did say you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb. Is that even true?" Stefan narrows his eyes as he inspects Klaus.

"Of course, and I can read your military career in your face, and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone." He states.

"How?" Stefan swallows. Klaus smirks down at him.

"Klaus!" Caroline storms in.

"Yes, love?" He directs his attention to her.

"Are those what I think they are?" She demands while pointing at the mini laboratory on the kitchen table.

"Depends, what do you think they are?" He asks. Stefan watches Caroline's forehead crinkle in amusement. She looked so cute when she was angry.

"I swear to God, Niklaus Mikaelson. If you have gone and stolen things from the lab that I risk my job to let you use I will-"

"Suicides. Right up your alley, Niklaus." Gloria walks in with a newspaper. "Three exactly the same." She muses. As if on cue, police sirens sound from outside. Niklaus looks out the window, he watches Lestrade step out of the car.

"Four." He nods. "There's been a fourth, but this one was different." He licks his lips.

"Fourth?" Caroline asks.

"How the hell do you know that?" Stefan sits up straighter in his chair. Detective Inspector Lestrade bounces up the stairs and through the door.

"Where?" Klaus asks. His hands cross behind his back.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." Lestrade sighs.

"There's something different isn't there?" Klaus smirks. "You wouldn't have come to me otherwise. Not that it's not nice to see you, mate."

"Pleasure." Lestrade snorts. "The others didn't leave notes, this one did." Caroline and Stefan watch on curiously.

"Will you come?" Lestrade grinds out like it hurt his pride to say those three words.

"Who's on forensics?" He asks.

"Gilbert." Lestrade shrugs.

"Ah," Klaus shakes his head. "That doesn't work well with me."

"Christ Klaus, he won't be your assistant." Lestrade tries to reason.

"That's the point, I _need_ an assistant." Klaus scoffs.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asks again.

"Not in a police car," Klaus shakes his head. "I'll be right behind you."

"Thanks." He nods than jogs out of the room.

"What just happened?" Stefan mutters.

"Brilliant!" Klaus suddenly exclaims. "Yes!" His fist pumps the air and he grabs his coat. "Four serial suicides and now a note." He sighs merrily. "It's Christmas, Gloria! I'll be late home, might need some food." He heads out through the kitchen.

"Landlady not housekeeper." She chides.

"Something cold will do." He ignores her previous statement. "Just none of that low fat nonsense. Stefan, help yourself to a cup of tea in my absence." And he's gone.

"Always dashing about that one," Gloria chuckles. "My husband was just the same, you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell." She pats the back of the chair and Caroline covers her laugh with a cough. "I'll make you that spot of tea, you just rest that leg."

"Damn my leg!" Stefan suddenly yells. Caroline jumps. "Sorry, so sorry, I'm so sorry." He apologises quickly. "It's just sometimes this bloody thing..." He sighs and Caroline shoots him a worried smile.

"I understand, dear, I've got a hip." Gloria nods.

"I'll go make that tea." She starts for the door.

"I'll have some too." Caroline mumbles as the woman leaves. "Or not." She clicks her tongue.

Stefan picks up the newspaper and looks at the article on the serial suicides.

"You're a doctor." He jumps and looks around. Klaus stands in the doorway, putting on his black gloves. "In fact, you're an army doctor."

"Yes." Stefan nods and eyes him suspiciously.

"Any good?" Klaus asks.

"Very good. They used to call me the Ripper, because of the amount of limbs I successfully removed." Stefan leans on his walking stick and rises from the chair. Klaus nods, impressed.

"Seen a lot of injuries, then?" Klaus takes a step closer, his hands behind his back. "Violent deaths?"

"Well, yes. Dozens." Stefan nods.

"Bit of trouble too, I bet." Klaus' lips turn upward.

"Of course, yes." Stefan narrows his eyes and his lips twitch too.

"I need a doctor, feel like looking at a dead body?" Klaus smirks.

"Uh, forensic scientist over here." Caroline calls awkwardly but is ignored.

"Oh, god, yes." Stefan admits and Klaus laughs and pats him on the back. They head down the stairs.

"Uh.." Caroline purses her lips and then pulls herself up and follows.

"Sorry Gloria, going to have to skip tea." Stefan says as they reach the bottom of the stairs.

"Both of you?" Gloria asks, disappointed. Caroline trots down the stairs.

"Impossible suicides." Klaus smiles at her. "Four of them! What's the point in sitting at home when there's something fun finally going on?" He kisses her on the cheek and turns towards the door again.

"Look at you, all happy over death. It's not decent." She frowns.

"Who cares about decent anymore, love?" Klaus grins. "The game, Gloria, is afoot!" He calls excitedly as he swings open the door.

"Taxi!" Klaus puts out his hand and the cab stops. He gets in, Stefan trailing behind. Caroline rolls her eyes and catches the door before it shuts.

* * *

Klaus texts, Stefan sits rigid and Caroline plays with her hands. Stefan stares at Klaus and he sighs.

"Alright, you no doubt have questions, mate?" He addresses Stefan and Caroline rolls her eyes as she looks out the window. She watches the city roll by. She's never been in this part of town before.

"First, where are we going?" Stefan asks.

"Crime scene. Next?" Klaus sighs, bored.

"Who are you? What do you...do?" Stefan narrows his eyes again. Caroline snorts.

"What do you think?" Klaus turns to face him, scanning his face.

"I'd say private detective." Stefan guesses.

"But?" Klaus smirks.

"Police don't go to private detectives." He eyes him suspiciously again. "Especially not at their house."

"I'm a consulting detective." Klaus smiles cockily. "Only one in the world, in fact."

"Because he invented the job." Caroline interjects. Klaus chuckles.

"And what the hell does that mean?" Stefan asks flatly.

"It means," Klaus drawls. "When the police are out of their depth, which is _always_, they consult me."

"The police don't consult amateurs." Stefan laughs. Caroline smirks at Klaus' expression.

"Am-" Klaus snorts. "When we met, yesterday, I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised."

"Yes, how _did_ you know that?" Stefan asks once again.

"I didn't," Klaus licks his lips. "I saw." He smiles at Stefan.

"What?" Stefan blinks. Caroline sits back for the show, Klaus sighs.

"Your haircut and the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation as you entered the room-

_"It's, uh, a bit different from my day."_

-said trained at Barts, so Army doctor obviously."

"Obviously." Stefan snorts.

"Your face is tanned," Klaus ignores him and continues. "But no tan on the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp's rather bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least party psychosomatic. That says that the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic." Caroline watches Stefan flinch. "Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan - Afghanistan or Iraq." Klaus sums up and looks to Stefan. Silence falls for a few seconds.

"You knew I had a therapist." Stefan says slowly.

"You've got a psychosomatic limp, of course you have a therapist." Klaus snorts. "Then there's your brother." Klaus starts, Caroline watches Stefan flinch again.

"Your phone." Klaus says. "It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player. But you're looking for a flat share. You wouldn't wouldn't waste money on this - so, it's a gift. Scratches. Not one, but many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins." Klaus looks to Stefan then continues. "You're saving, you wouldn't treat a luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next part's easy. You know it already, mate." Klaus smiles at Stefan as he watches the wheels turn in his head. Klaus' eyes meet Caroline's.

"The engraving?" Stefan claps his hands together. The other two tear their eyes away instantly.

_To Damon Salvatore  
From Rose  
xxx_

"Damon Salvatore. Clearly a relative who's given you his old phone. Can't be your father, as this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got extended family, not one you're close to anyway. So, brother it is. Now, who's Rose?" Klaus grins. "Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment." Klaus wiggles his eyebrows. "The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. Must have given it to him recently, the model's only six months old."

"Study phone catalogues?" Caroline snorts.

"Trouble in paradise, then - six months and he's just given it away. If she'd left _him_, he would've kept it. People do, sentimental value I'll never understand. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left _her_. He gave the phone to his brother, so he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help. That says you've got issues with him. Maybe, you liked his wife-" Caroline elbows Stefan's shoulder teasingly, he offers her a small smile. "-or maybe you don't fancy his drinking." Stefan stares.

"Alright, how can you possibly know about the drinking?"

"Shot in the dark." Klaus smirks.

"Good one, though." Caroline tilts her head.

"Power connection - tiny little scratch marks around the edge of it. When he plugs it in to charge his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunk's without them. There you go, mate. You see, you were right." Klaus looks out the window.

"I was right?" Stefan snorts. "Great, right about what exactly?"

"The police don't consult amateurs." Klaus winks.

"Amazing, isn't he?" Caroline smiles and taps Stefan with her shoulder.

"That was slightly amazing, yes." Stefan nods.

"Do you think so?" Klaus smirks.

"Of course it was." Stefan breathes out through his teeth. "Extraordinary, quite, very extraordinary."

"That's not what people normally say." Klaus licks his lips.

"What do people normally say?" Stefan asks.

"Piss off?" Caroline guesses. The trio grin and the taxi arrives at the crime scene.

* * *

They exit the taxi and walk towards the flashing lights and blue tape.

"Did I get anything wrong?" Klaus asks.

"Damon and I didn't get along, never really had." Stefan muses. Caroline notes the look in his eye. Klaus furrows his eyebrows.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry." Caroline whispers. Klaus furrows his eyebrows further.

"Rose left Damon, three months ago. She died." Stefan clicks his tongue. "And Damon was killed in action. Beside me. From the very same blast that messed up my leg." He sighs and Klaus remains silent. Caroline offers him a sad smile and squeezes his hand.

"So, what exactly am I doing here?" Stefan asks, in hope to pass the awkward silence, as they reach the blue police tape.

"Hello freak." A pretty brunette calls as she approaches them.

"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade." Klaus states.

"Why?" She crosses her arms over her chest.

"I was invited." He looks at her.

"Why?" She scoffs.

"I think he wants me to take a look." Klaus' eyes narrow.

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?" She asks.

"Always, Bonnie." Klaus crosses under the blue tape. "I even know you didn't make it home last night." He wiggles his eyebrows and she gapes.

"You..er...who's this?" She asks as Stefan tries to go under the tape.

"Colleague of mine, Dr. Salvatore." Klaus explains.

"And Caroline." The blonde laughs awkwardly. "I'm Caroline." She waves shyly.

"Dr. Salvatore, Sergeant Bonnie Bennett. Old friend..ish." Klaus introduces them.

"A colleague? Please," Bonnie laughs. "How do _you_ get a colleague?" She turns to a Stefan. "Did he follow you home? You know, you have legal permission to shoot him if he trespasses again." Stefan snorts and then slides under the tape, dragging his walking stick behind him.

"Alright, whatever. Freak's here. Bringing him in." Bonnie talks into her walkie talkie. They follow her towards the building. Caroline rolls her eyes, lifts up the tape and runs after them.

"Ah, Little Gilbert. Lovely to see you, mate." Klaus smiles at a young man in a blue protective suit.

"Ditto, just don't contaminate my crime scene, okay?" Gilbert sends him a warning look.

"Not to worry, mate. It's safe with me." Klaus smiles and crosses his hands behind his back. "And is Anna away for long?"

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out." Gilbert narrows his eyes. "Somebody has told you that."

"Your deodorant told me that." Klaus inspects the scene.

"My deodorant, right." Gilbert clicks his tongue.

"It's for men." Klaus says merrily. Gilbert looks from Stefan back to Klaus.

"Well, of course it's for men!" Gilbert furrows his eyebrows. "I'm freaking wearing it."

"Yes, but so is Sergeant Bennett." Klaus smiles and raises his eyebrow. He sniffs the air dramatically. Caroline puffs out her cheeks to hide her smile and Stefan's lips twitch. "Ah, I think it just vaporised. May I go in now?"

"Now, look. Whatever you're trying to imply here, man-"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Bonnie came around for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over." Klaus tilts his head as he walks toward the door. He swings back to look at them. "And, going by the state of her knees, she scrubbed your floors as well. What a pal." Klaus smirks and ventures in to go look at the crime scene. Stefan smiles awkwardly then follows. Caroline sways on the balls of her feet and purses her lips. She decides to stay outside, not that they'd notice anyway. The three stare at each other silently. Caroline clicks her tongue.

"Use bleach?"

* * *

**a/n -** leaving you right before it gets interesting ;)


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